Don't Hug Me, the intimate musical comedy from Minnesota by way
of Los Angeles, has been making its way about the country pleasing
audiences since its 2003 West Coast premiere. It has now arrived at
the usually more serious minded New Jersey Rep as a bauble for the joyous
holiday season. And while it breaks no new ground, it proves to be a
clever and agreeable fun evening in the theatre. This is quite an
accomplishment when one considers that the gags are truly terrible (which
seems to be the point) and the story centers on a karaoke machine and its
ability to change lives.

We find ourselves in the Bunyan, a small, rural bar in Bunyan Bay,
Minnesota on the coldest day of the year. Gunner wants to sell the bar
and move to the warmth of Florida, but his wife Clara is determined to
stay as she loves the pleasures of ice fishing and her memories of being
Queen of the local Winter Carnival. Omnipresent is their waitress Bernice
who shares Clara's feelings about Bunyan Bay. They sing, "I'm a Walleye
Woman in a Crappie Town/ ... but I'm never moving away/ hey hey, hey, hey."
Bernice is engaged to the foolishly self-important and acquisitive supply
store owner Kanute. The events that ensue are initiated by the arrival on
the scene of Aarvid, a young and enthusiastic karaoke system salesmen.

No spoilers here! We are treated to a series of comic songs and
sketches involving lots of feudin' and fussin' among our five protagonists
and a happy ending that finds Gunner and Clara back in love, Bernice and
Aarvid in thrall to each other, and the ridiculous Kanute fuming.

The authors are brothers Phil Olson (book and lyrics) and Paul Olson
(music). The former is a California based playwright (with some minor
film credits), and the later is a nephrologist in Minnesota, who has
always been an accomplished musician. Based on the happy, uncynical,
tongue-in-cheek nature of their writing, they might be described as the
anti-Coen brothers. The conceit of the music is that the songs are
cornball Prairie Home Companion-like adaptations of the styles of famous
composers and performers.

At times, the music is more evocative than it is at others. For
example, "written by Swen Jorgensen in his Madonna phase" is "He Wore a Purple Tux,"
a prostitute's lament ("He was a gentleman, he paid me fifty bucks/ And I
went back to the V.F.W., to find another purple tux"). Most of these
songs are intentionally tacky, yet at the same time manage to be pleasant, lively and amusing. The music is recorded, but
this is less of a negative than one might expect because it is mostly
represents the sound of the karaoke machine (or the radio).

The entire cast performs with gusto and high spiritedness. Each
performer takes advantage of any number of opportunities to shine, and the
alphabetical billing is as it should be. Clark Carmichael delightfully
projects Kanute's pig-headed, self-centered foolishness in a likeable, broad
performance without winking at the audience or otherwise distancing
himself from Kanute's ridiculousness. The key here is his excellent comic
timing. John Little's Gunner is irascible, but almost always has an
observant comic twinkle in his eye that makes it clear that he is not far
from reaching out to his Clara and restoring their happiness. He even
gets to sing a gay '90s style waltz, "Last Night I Dreamed," with homespun
charm. Cortnie Loren Miller's Bernice is bright and dynamic. She
performs with show business pizzazz as a waitress whose dream of becoming
a professional singer is given impetus by the arrival of Aarvid and his
jukebox. Michael Nathanson is a bundle of charm and eager enthusiasm as
Aarvid. His likeability and vulnerability are precisely what is needed
here. Darcie Siciliano brings a sense of joy to Clara's confident and
gritty determination not to lose control of her life.

As it is wont to do on occasion, NJ Rep is utilizing the inner
lobby-reception area rather than the main stage for this production. The
long narrow space proves most felicitous for Don't Hug Me as it
allows for the design of a large and richly detailed tavern set (kudos to
designer Quinn K. Stone), and the entire audience can feel that it is
within the confines of the Bunyan. Director Gail Winar has kept things
moving at a brisk pace and elicited uniformly excellent performances.
Note to the director: John Little and Darcie appear far apart in age, and
no mention is made of this in the script. This makes it sound odd when
Gunner speaks of going to Florida "before we die." Changing the word "we"
to "I" would instantly allow the audience to see their age differential as
integral to the piece.

There is a visual triumph in her production which is particularly fine.
It is at the top of the second act and Gunner and Kanute are standing
back of the bar drinking and (for laughs) foolishly lamenting the
ascendance of Aarvid and his karaoke machine at the Bunyan, The former is
wearing a red and black striped lumberjack's cap (and striped shirt) and the
latter a Russian fur hat (and a reindeer sweater), strongly evoking
memories of the 1940's "Road" pictures of Bing Crosby (Gunner) and Bob
Hope (Kanute). In the context of Don't Hug Me's style of corny
comedy, this was a perfect image to put a warm smile on my face. Now Gail
Winar may not have been thinking of the Crosby-Hope road pictures, but, unless she disabuses me of my
notion of her intent here, I won't believe that.